The First Five Minutes
by PenPatronus
Summary: "I have one goal, Dean. One goal only for the rest of my existence: to protect you." Between fighting for their lives and running for them, Dean and Castiel find a minute to talk in Purgatory. Hurt / comfort, angst.


**Summary: **Between fighting for their lives and running for them, Dean and Castiel find a minute to talk in Purgatory. Hurt / comfort, friendship.

**Author's Note:** This was written before the start of Season 8.

**The First Five Minutes  
**PenPatronus

Dean was alone with the red eyes. Fangs and talons surrounded him like barbed wire. His body was a shivering goose bump. He felt the monsters' breaths on his neck. So many circled like sharks that everything – the sky, the trees, the light –was blocked out. There was nothing he could do. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nothing to fight with and no one at his side. His heart ached for Sam.

A hand gripped his shoulder half a second before a hundred claws and a thousand teeth pounced. The hand disappeared just as suddenly and Dean found himself tumbling, Jack and Jill style, down a stony hill. He felt his left shoulder dislocate, heard his right ankle snap. Sharp rocks ripped his clothes, his skin, his muscles. His momentum only stopped when he collided with a line of thick, spiny shrubs. Dean kicked himself free of the branches and rolled over onto his stomach.

He saw Castiel, then. The angel fell from the sky and crashed into the ground twenty yards away, and he wasn't alone. A wiry but muscular black, winged creature had him by the neck. Dean put two and two together: the monster must have tackled them in mid-flight. Cass' white scrubs were stained red down the right side of his abdomen. A cloud of wilting feathers rained down and Dean wondered if the angel's wings still worked.

Light caught his eye. Silver moonlight reflected off a silver object: Cass' archangel sword. Dean tried to get up, failed, and began to crawl. He pushed with his left ankle and pulled with his right arm. It was slow going at first but he doubled his speed when Cass screamed in pain and the beast shrieked in victory. Dean grabbed the short sword and looked up to see that Castiel's throat was about to be slashed.

"_Cass_!" Dean yelled. He didn't wait for the angel to look up, but launched the sword like a javelin.

Castiel threw all of his body weight at his enemy and managed to knock it onto its back. He braced it against the ground, caught the sword with one hand and plunged it down. The creature's dying shrieks almost deafened Dean. He felt his eardrums vibrate and realized, then, that the being was a harpy. And he wondered, for a brief moment, where monsters went when they died in Purgatory.

Castiel climbed slowly to his feet. He didn't last long on them. He took a few steps towards Dean and his knees gave out. He landed on the palms of his hands with a guttural grunt.

"Cass? _Cass_!" Dean started to crawl, and so did Castiel. They reached out for each other's hands as soon as they were within arm's length. Without a word, Cass yanked Dean against his chest and held him still as he healed his broken body. Dean closed his eyes and sagged against Cass, waiting for his blood to replenish and his energy to return.

"Dropped you," Cass muttered. "Sorry."

"Where the hell did you go?" Dean panted.

"To find a safe place for us to hide," Cass explained. He swallowed, hard, and Dean not only heard but also felt his struggling, wheezing breaths. "I didn't abandon you, Dean."

"I thought you went looking for _bees_," Dean snapped. He felt Cass wince and instantly regretted his words. His strength returned, then. As he sat up, though, Cass began to topple. "What the –" Dean wrapped the angel in a tight bear hug. "Cass, what are you waiting for? Heal yourself al-"

His wings still worked. Dean suddenly found himself huddled in what seemed to be a nest of moss, wood and bone. The nest was five times the size of the Impala, so Dean didn't want to meet whatever had made it. The air was thick with scents he couldn't name – sulfur and burnt hair mixed with bog water, perhaps. Dean saw treetops beyond the mouth of the cave and realized that they were inside a tall cliff face.

"You're safe now," Cass whispered, and became deadweight in Dean's arms.

Dean leaned over him. Cass' face was as white as the bones around them, whiter than his scrub shirt – the few square inches of it not soaked in blood. Castiel's blue eyes were bright, though. Not happy but… satisfied.

"Ok, buddy, heal yourself already," Dean said. He lightly cupped the angel's face with dirty hands. "Cass, what's wrong?"

"You're safe," was all he said.

"Used up most of your juice on me, didn't you?" Cass didn't deny it. Dean ripped off one of the trench coat sleeves and used it as a bandage. "Dammit, Cass, why…" Dean's own thoughts interrupted his words. He knew the answer to his question. "So what now?" he asked as he bandaged the claw marks in the angel's abdomen.

"We'll hide here for a while. The nest should mask our scent. I'll heal soon," said Cass.

"I mean, what's the plan? How are we going to get home?"

Cass' brow wrinkled. "I have no idea."

"We left that incantation and symbol and stuff at Crowley's lab when we chased after you. Leviathan you, I mean. Sam will go there. Sam will open the door. He'll find us."

Castiel sighed and closed his eyes. "It's not that simple, Dean."

"Why not?"

"I know how to open the door, but I don't know precisely where it opens to. In terms of a physical place, Purgatory is vast. It would take hours for me to fly across it from one corner to the other, looking for a door that could only be open for a few seconds."

Dean tightened his grip on his friend. "Then what, huh? Do we just sit here and wait to be Dean-and-Cass-kabobs?"

Castiel's eyes shone. "I have one goal, Dean. One goal only for the rest of my existence: to protect you. That's all I've wanted since I met you. Protecting you is the reason behind everything – _everything_ I've ever done."

Dean pressed his forehead against the heel of his hand and shut his eyes. "I know…"

A minute passed, and then Cass whispered, "I was happy with the bees."

"I shouldn't have made you come," said Dean, just as softly.

"Wanted to… I wanted to…" Cass winced and wrapped his arms around his abdomen.

"I should've just left you with the bees but… I need you."

"I know. You needed my powers to defeat the Leviathans."

"That's not what I said."

Cass' eyes were half-closed but he managed to prop up an eyebrow.

"I need _you_, Cass. You. Even if you didn't have an ounce of angel mojo in you, I want you by my side."

"After everything I've done? Everything?"

Dean smiled slightly and wrapped his hand around Cass' wrist. "Everything."

The angel closed his eyes. "I'm afraid, Dean."

Dean thought about that harpy and wondered how many more were out there. "I am, too," he admitted.

"Not to die," Cass whispered. "I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid to let you down again…"

"I know you won't."

Cass passed out before the end of Dean's sentence.

**The End**


End file.
